


Crescendo

by katquasar



Category: Star Fox Series
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Gen, Pigma's a Dick, Post SF64, Post-Betrayal, Star Wolf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 22:52:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7333912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katquasar/pseuds/katquasar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once a traitor, always a traitor. Star Wolf finds out the hard way. Specifically, Leon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crescendo

When Leon came to, his vision still blurred, and there was a sharp ache across the back of his head. His mind worked slowly, fogged memories slowly creeping back into his mind as if they'd been years, and not hours old.

 _Oh, right. I hit my head, did I not?_ He thought to himself, slowly lifting himself off the stretcher he lay upon haphazardly, covered in bandages and a stained white sheet. A hand on his shoulder, a clawed hand, suddenly reminded him he was not alone with a startled twitch.

"Eh, don't move too much. Y' hit your head pretty hard back there. Told ya not to be so damn reckless, Powalski." a coarse voice muttered. The tone was scolding, but relaxed.

"T-There was...a lot of blood..." uttered another, much younger and stammering voice, "I honestly thought you were dead when I'd found you."

"Wolf, Andrew. And where is Pigma?" Leon asked, his vision focusing onto his reluctant comrades, men whom he'd just began to trust.

"Good as dead, next time I see the fucker." Wolf growled, a bit of a snarl to his tone. Leon flinched slightly as a voice in his head reemerged in his mind, reminding him of what had gotten him into his current state.

_Tell O'Donnell **I quit**. If you live, anyway. I don't give a shit either way, Powalski. You always creeped me out, you little bastard._

"...he shot me down." the chameleon uttered, more noting to himself than anything. He tried to bawl his left hand in a fist—only to find it had been wrapped in a makeshift cast.

"Wolf...when you hired Pigma-"

"I didn't. The kid's dear _Uncle Andross_ assembled this team to take down McCloud, remember?" There was a scathing to the lupine's tone that made the primate across the room bristle and glare at him.

" _You're_ the one in charge, _Wolf_. You should've kicked him off the team after the war. There was no reason to trust him. There was no reason we could have ever trusted him. The only reason _I_ tolerated him was because my Uncle-"

"Enough, Oinkonny. Please. The last thing I need from you is to be tellin' me what to do. And besides, I _should've_ killed him." Wolf countered, silencing the adolescent monkey, who brought his fingers into his mouth, biting at his fingernails anxiously.

Leon would have cackled if he didn't ache everywhere, settling for a small huff. He lied back down, laying his cast arm over his forehead, which he was sure was burning.

"It doesn't matter, anyway. When I see Dengar next, I'll cut out his spleen, then force-feed it to him." he murmured softly, laughing softly to himself.

"...good to know you're still as maniacal as ever." Wolf muttered with a sigh. Leon wasn't sure what to make of the tone of voice his leader had used—as if making fun of an old friend.

"I was worried. No, really, I was. I didn't know if you were gonna remember who you were when you woke up, Leon!" Andrew added in, a youthful excitement that sounded far too naïve for a young man trained to kill.

Leon chuckled softly, lowering his arm from his face. "Oh, I assure you. The Great Leon does not forget."


End file.
